


Royal Affairs in the Faerie Queen's Court

by KwisatchHaderach



Series: The Village of Mianna [2]
Category: Midsummer Night's Dream - Shakespeare
Genre: Everyone Is Bisexual Because Shakespeare, F/F, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Gentleness, Have you ever wanted to be kidnapped/wed to the faerie queen?, Human/Monster Romance, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Magic, Well this is for you!, technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:20:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28805709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KwisatchHaderach/pseuds/KwisatchHaderach
Summary: Ashala, a young elf girl, catches the eye of Titania the Faerie Queen at her town's annual Halloween festival. As the royal couple's new favorite courtisan and plaything, she'll have to bear the responsibility of ambassadorial negotiations between the mundane world and the fae.Lucky for her, the fae have no concept of responsibility, so she mainly just gets to dance, eat fruit, and fuck around.
Relationships: Oberon/Titania (Midsummer Night's Dream), Oberon/Titania/Original Female Character
Series: The Village of Mianna [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111430
Kudos: 4





	1. Beware of Mysterious Beautiful Women Emerging from Portals

**Author's Note:**

> Getting spirited away by supernatural entities from beyond the pale can be a fun and sensual experience, as long as all parties give full consent, and have carefully read of all the terms and conditions involved.
> 
> I'd love to go into more detail, but there seems to be some sort of unearthly singing emanating from the circle of white mushrooms outside my window in the mist, so I'm going to go investigate it alone and unarmed.

Harvest time made everything golden. When the shadows started to lengthen, and the twilight began to creep into the day, Mianna’s village would step outside to take a deep whiff of the vintage mulching earth underfoot, and admire the trees as they changed into their royal raiment to welcome the new season. This was the time to celebrate the year as it passed, to raise glasses in toast of the deeds done and friends made in the summer and spring, and the sunlight had a special warmth to it that made the world feel as sweet and ripe as an apple.

The leaves overhead lent clouds of fiery orange and bloody red to the crisp blue sky, and the hustle and bustle of figures in the clearing made a cheerful murmur that carried all the way through the trees to where Ashala and her parents were following the well-worn path to the festival grounds, accompanied by their family friends Duran the Orc, and his human wife, Evelin.

There was an extra skip in Ashala’s step as they went along, laughing and chatting merrily. She loved the Harvest Festival, with its fun and food and celebrations. White was the traditional color to wear, usually in the form of big billowy shirts with scandalously open fronts to pair with tight leather pants, or light loose dresses with hemlines that floated like mist, and there were many of them dotting the distant crowd, but there were plenty who favored warmer earth tones in keeping with the climate. Despite the brisk air, temperature wasn’t taken into account when choosing wardrobe; a mug or two of the infamous village cider would be enough to warm up a troll.

The sweet, spicy smell of that cider was beginning to roll through the trees from where it brewed and bubbled in a great oak vats, and Ashala savored a deep breath of it. She had been allowed only sips of the heavenly brew in years past by her conscientious parents, but tonight she intended to revel in her young adulthood. In her moon-pale dress, she felt light and airy and carefree, like her steps barely tethered her to the earth. She could feel Evelin’s eyes on her from behind, and thought back with a pleased smile to earlier that day when Evelin had demonstrated her appreciation for her appearance by pulling her aside in the midst of their preparations to leave, sticking her head under Ashala’s long, flowy skirt, and eating her out until she screamed. She felt desired and pretty and vivacious, and the thoughts of what might happen later between the two of them, when darkness would fall and cider-soaked couples would traditionally sneak off into the woods, made her shiver with delightful anticipation.

But first there was dancing and feasting to attend to, and the sight of the festival grounds as they broke into the clearing made Ashala’s eyes widen. There were crowds of tents with apple cider donuts and jam tarts to offer, and a wide grassy space for dancing where a band was already providing music. Colorful masks hung from pegs low enough for the children to grab and chase each other with, and pumpkins and glowing jack-o-lanterns dotted the paths between the stands. Cornhole, rolling hoops, and other games were set up at intervals. A great roaring bonfire gave off a pleasant, woody aroma, and at the center of it all, a towering maypole with wide, colorful ribbons streaming from the top.

Ashala was quick to break from her parents and seek out her gaggle of friends amongst the crowd, greeting them with delighted squeals and clasped hands. They immediately went to assert their newfound privileges at the cider stand, and staggered a bit when the heady nectar hit their bellies.

Gossip flowed as freely as the food and drink, and Ashala enjoyed herself tremendously. They took to the dance floor, and pounded it with their feet. Her friends, Mislia the tiefling, Edgar the elf, and Erika the dwarf all took turns to whirl with her to the strains of the fiddle, and feasted on pastries and pumpkin seeds between dances. Edgar crowed in triumph after four rounds of cornhole, but Ashala and Mislia earned a retaliatory victory in the three-legged race, surpassing the previous year’s record held by Morgan the amputee centaur.

Children were taken home as evening drew in, and the real revelry began when the jack-o-lanterns and the bonfire became the primary sources of light in the clearing.

Her parents appeared a few hours later to check on her state.

“I…I don’t know what you guys were so worried about,” she said accusatorily, stumbling a little. “This cider couldn’t knock down a…a…”

“A goose,” supplied Edgar helpfully from the table.

“A goose!” Ashala cried triumphantly, throwing him a grateful salute.

Her mom chuckled. “Yes, I can see you handle booze like a champion. Nevertheless, I’m going to cut you off.”

“But Moooom…”

“I’ll cut you off when you finish this mug, with the condition you drink some water afterwards. Deal?”

“Deal!” Ashala shook her mother’s hand happily, missing on the first attempt.

As loath as she was to admit her mother was right, Ashala enjoyed herself even more once she had sobered up a little, although stealthy Erika was able to surreptitiously refill her mug a few times. It left her more capable of dancing properly, and of admiring features of her friends she’d never noticed before. Erika, for instance, had fiery red hair and an adorable dusting of freckles over her button nose, and Mislia’s violet tits were just spilling out of the medieval barmaid-type dress that suited her figure so well…

Ashala’s memory became something of a blur around this point. She was out on the dance floor, shaking everything she had to a thumping party song. Her legs were burning and her lungs were gasping, but her friends were moving in perfect concert around her, and she didn’t know if she’d ever been this happy…

Then suddenly she was sitting down, and Mislia was sitting in her lap, kissing her like there was no tomorrow. Her hands were softly cupping her face, and her tongue was gently caressing hers, and Ashala’s hands were finally cupping her warm, gorgeous tits. Feeling around blindly as Mislia explored her mouth, she stealthily managed to unlace the front of her bodice, and cheered internally when she heard the soft rustle of the cloth falling away. She brushed her thumbs in tandem across her nipples, and felt them stiffen almost immediately…

Then she was sprinting though the trees, giggling madly. It was dark, and it was dangerous to be running over uneven ground in the woods, but her heart was speeding like a racehorse and she was feeling utterly euphoric. Someone was holding her hand…or was she holding theirs?

Suddenly, back in the clearing, pinning down a squirming, half-naked Erika into the grass in the shadows behind the cider stand. The dwarf was wriggling and moaning, desperately humping her from underneath. She was so small, and her frantic little sounds of arousal were so cute…Ashala ran her hands hungrily over every inch of pale skin she could find, memorizing her every curve, every spot that made her twitch and jump, and leaned in to kiss every freckle on her face…

Suddenly she was wrapped in warmth. Her back was pressed up against something…no, up against someone. The familiar smell of Evelin was in her nose, Evelin’s hand was cupping her breasts, and her skirt was bunched up around her waist as Evelin fingerfucked her into oblivion. She heard a long, sustained, lewd moan, and realized it was coming from her as Evelin pumped her fingers in and out of her slick entrance.

“You looked so pretty dancing out there, my angel,” she cooed in her ear. Ashala pressed herself harder against her front, delighted to have pleased her.

“You look absolutely magical in that dress, like a beautiful wild faerie of the woods…I notice you didn’t wear any underwear. Was that just for me? Naughty girl…”

Ashala realized Mislia or Erika must have stolen her panties, but thought better of telling Evelin as she twisted her head to kiss her on the mouth. She relaxed her body as Evelin’s tongue swept into her mouth, deep into the crevices it knew so well…

Then she was up against a tree, gasping for breath as Edgar pounded away at her snatch. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her whole dress was bunched and crumpled around her stomach, and her bare back was scratching against the rough tree bark. The pain was a delicious counterpoint to the pleasure as Edgar fucked her, his fat cock driving the air out of her lungs every time she fell upon it. Ashala realized he was holding her whole body off the ground and against the tree with only his hands around her waist and his cock impaling her pussy, and wondered idly when he’d gotten so strong. Her breasts rubbed against his bare chest every time he lifted her up and slammed her down like a hammer, and she let out a shaky moan. She was so wonderfully full, her slick inner walls clamping on his dick like a vice, and she could feel every hot, hard inch of him inside her. Ecstasy was peaking, a familiar warmth gathering in her chest…

Then she was standing in the crowd again near her parents as the mayor made his closing speech from the band stage.

“It must be nearly midnight,” she realized as she attempted to straighten her dress. It was covering her whole body again, thankfully, but was spotted with dirt and a few suspicious wet spots.

Ashala surreptitiously gave herself a quick pat-down to ensure she was still in one piece, and found a love bite on her neck (“Evelin, without a doubt.”), a bruise on her left ass cheek (“feisty Erika, most likely.”), and a few leaves and twigs tangled in her pale blonde hair. She could also feel a dried sticky substance crusting the inside of her left thigh (“Edgar. Thankfully he was adamant about protection.”).

“I must really look wild as a woodland faerie now,” she thought to herself.

A bit to her left she spotted Mislia and Erika, holding hands, she was pleased to see. The front of Mislia’s dress looked a bit rumpled, like she’d had to hastily retie the laces of her bodice. Ashala glanced pointedly at their joined hands, and winked at Mislia, who blushed even pinker across her violet face.

“In conclusion,” said the mayor, a portly halfling beaming good-naturedly from behind his half-moon spectacles, “I wish you all a happy Samhain, and thank you for making this another Harvest Festival to remember--”

The bonfire suddenly flared twenty feet tall, a swirling column of fire that rivaled the treetops and sent a wave of scorching heat across the clearing. The top of the maypole flared to life in a wreath of green flames, and the crowd gasped.

Ashala noticed the mayor didn’t look as surprised, merely rubbing his temples and muttering “Not again…”

The flames of the bonfire gaped into a circle, a hellish portal of darkness, and a sound like thunder boomed.

Two figures stepped out onto the grass.

Ashala’s jaw dropped. They were the most beautiful people she’d ever seen. One was a woman, vaguely Asian in appearance, with long black hair straight as a ruler, captivating dark eyes, a slim, regal figure, and an face that could start a war. She wore a sleeveless black dress that looked like it was woven from shadows. The other was a man, with olive skin, a ruggedly handsome visage, short disheveled black hair, and a taut, muscular frame, a bit shorter than his companion. He wore no shirt, and a pair of loose leather pants. They were both barefoot.

Ashala was reminded of panthers, the way they held themselves in relaxed, but wary stances, and they scanned the crowd with predatory looks on their beautiful faces.

A thrill ran down her spine when the woman locked eyes with her. To Ashala’s astonishment, the mysterious woman smiled and started to make a beeline for her through the crowd with her companion in tow.

She tried to reason her way out of what she instinctually knew was coming as they approached: “Surely, they don’t want anything to do with me…okay, they’re definitely going to stop when they reach that woman there…they’re definitely going to stop before they get close to me...”

The smiling woman stopped when she reached her, her eyes never leaving Ashala’s face. She laid a hand on Ashala’s shoulder, and said “This one,” in a calm, but firm tone.

Ashala shivered. Was this a dream? Did she have too much cider after all?

The man came to stand at Ashala’s other side, and laid his hand on her other shoulder. His thumb swept over a bit of her exposed skin, and Ashala felt tingles erupt all over her.

Incredible fear made her bashful. She couldn’t find her voice, and her limbs felt like lead, but she was broken from her reverie when the mayor came huffing and puffing up to them from the stage.

“This,” he proclaimed, waving a finger in the air, “is outrageous! Never in three thousand years have I seen such a flagrant and indecorous display! Your Majesties, this is a clear violation of--”

“The original agreement still holds,” interrupted the man, with a voice like a deep forest stream. “We are yet entitled to our choice.”

“You haven’t chosen a Harvest Queen in over fifty years,” hissed the mayor, whose face was beginning to resemble an eggplant.

The woman hummed, leaning her face closer to Ashala’s. “The maiden is already a Queen. We can take her whenever we wish…”

The closeness of their faces made Ashala shyly lower her face, but she gasped sharply when she felt the woman plant an audacious kiss on the side of her head. She could feel her cheeks heating up as murmurs broke out among the crowd. Who was this woman?

Her hand was gently stroking Ashala’s back like a scared animal, and the other came to rest on her stomach. The man was beginning to touch her as well, gently wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he responded to the mayor. Their bodies were warm, bracketing her between them like bookends. They were so _close_!

Their voices sounded distant and fuzzy, and Ashala was losing focus of everything except the hands lightly caressing her rigid body. Standing stock-still, staring down at her feet, with her fists held tight to her sides, she inhaled sharply when she felt another audacious kiss from the woman press softly to her temple, and then a third from the man on her other side! Blushing furiously, she squeezed her eyes shut, overwhelmed with flustered indignation.

The woman’s hand rose to her chin, and gently lifted it higher, forcing her to pay attention to her next few words.

“Besides, it’s not as though she’s unwilling.”

She looked her deep in the eyes.

“May I kiss you, darling?”

Kiss her? Kiss her?! Hadn’t she been peppering the side of her head with scandalous kisses already?

“Kiss you…properly, that is…”

Gods above, her voice sank into a smoldering husky growl at those words, laden with sensual promises. She was so beautiful, too, with those dark eyes and mysterious smile, and the way she held herself so confidently made Ashala want to follow her anywhere…

Feeling dazed, Ashala nodded weakly.

Her pillowy lips gently enveloped Ashala’s.

Despite her shock, after a moment Ashala couldn’t help but relax and let herself be fully and deeply kissed. The touch of her lips felt so good, like springtime sunlight, sweet as honeyed fruit, and made her feel warm and giggly…

She pulled away, and Ashala unconsciously chased her lips as they retreated, her eyelids fluttering.

“What is your name, friend?” Her question was an intimate whisper.

“A-Ashala,” she whispered back.

It was a second too late that she remembered what her parents had always told her about giving her name to strangers.

The woman grinned as though she’d been handed a million dollars, and Ashala didn’t even have time to ask who she was before the earth beneath her was dissolving into sweet-smelling night air, and she was plummeting into darkness with her tattered white dress flapping about her legs.


	2. Puck Gets Stuck, and Ashala Helps Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M/M and M/F. A classic porn scenario, dare I say an archetype of the genre.

It was a glorious day in the Fae Wild. The sunlight streamed gloriously through the treetops. Birds were chirping, bees were buzzing, and Oberon, King of the Faeries, was regarding a rather odd sight.

Hanging out of a knot in a vast old tree trunk before him was a set of smooth alabaster legs he recognized as Puck’s, which were bare, save for a slip of leafy fabric just barely covering his plump ass. His feet dangled inches off the ground.

Chuckling, Oberon clapped his heavy hand onto Puck’s thigh, eliciting a high-pitched yelp from within the tree trunk that startled a few nearby birds.

“What are you doing in there, trickster?” he rumbled.

“Well, uhhh, it’s a funny story, Your Highness. There was this snotty little maiden with the most beautiful brooch down in the village, and she was making such a big show of it in the square, so I lifted it in the likeness of a mouse and stashed it here. I came back to retrieve it, hoping to stash it on one of her detested rivals and cause a fuss, but…”

“But your ass is too fat to fit through the hole.” Oberon ran his hands appreciatively up and down Puck’s legs. Goosebumps pebbled Puck’s skin under his fingertips. Oberon relished in them, spreading his fingers jealously.

“Ooooh…ah, Your Highness, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to…ah!...willing to help me out of here…oh!”

Oberon was massaging him now, digging his thick fingers deep into Puck’s skin, working out all the knots and tensions he could find in his muscles. Blissful relaxation radiated up Puck’s spine, and he sighed as his lower half melted into the king’s hands.

“Mmmmm…oh, Your Highness…”

Puck’s coquettish little murmur sent a rush of blood straight to Oberon’s royal groin. With an evil grin, he started to explore the cleft of his ass, groping and kneading his soft flesh. By degrees, Puck’s legs went slack.

By Morgan, this position laid out Puck’s assets like a meal on a platter, Oberon thought greedily. His well-formed legs, the porcelain smoothness of his skin, the perfect roundness of his butt…and his _smell_ …like flowers, and rain on grass, and freshly baked bread…

Slowly, Oberon pushed the hem of Puck’s thin forest tunic up his back, fully exposing the pale globes of his ass. Puck suddenly went very still, and Oberon could picture the trickster’s face freezing with shock within the tree trunk as he realized what was about to happen.

Oberon suddenly pressed two thick fingers against Puck’s asshole. Puck gasped and squirmed within the tree, but his toes scrabbled uselessly on the bark.

Oberon only gripped his thighs harder and bent to apply his warm, wet tongue to his tight pucker.

With the king lapping at his asshole like a dog, Puck’s gasps slowly turned to deep, ragged pants. Outside the tree, his cock started to rise by degrees every time the royal tongue brushed over his sensitive rosebud, until it was standing rock-hard at attention, its weeping tip just barely brushing against the rough tree bark.

Oberon switched attention to his balls, ducking his head between Puck’s thighs to roll them around with his tongue in a blissful massage. Puck started making obscene little noises at his ministrations, and Oberon pushed his legs a little further apart and set to his task with redoubled attention.

He gently suckled and pulled them each into his mouth in turn to hold them before releasing them with a little smack of his lips. His fingers crept back up between the warmth of Puck’s ass cheeks to press against his rosebud again, and he started to thrust his fingers in and out with real force. His fingers met little resistance as they pushed inside Puck; they’d both had enough practice that this was second nature to them.

Moans started to reverberate from inside Puck’s wooden prison. His thick butt jiggled with each thrust, and his dangling legs trembled as the King of the Faeries finger-fucked his ass with fierce intensity. Puck couldn’t stop himself from rhythmically tensing and relaxing as the royal knuckles sank deep inside his warm flesh, his toes curling and his fingers flexing as pleasure drilled into his ass. He felt flushed and needy, every nerve alight with tingling fire.

Oberon withdrew, and Puck was left panting in the darkness a moment to wonder what had happened before his hands came thudding back onto his ass cheeks, and forcefully spread them apart. Cool air wafted against his sensitive rim, and as he realized what was coming, Puck braced his arms against the inner walls of the tree.

A thick, heavy shaft settled against his pucker, and Puck moaned at the titillating sensation of the round, bulbous head of Oberon’s prick leaking and smearing precum all around his opening as it pressed and bumped at his most intimate area. Grinding his magnificent tool between Puck’s ass cheeks, Oberon leaned his hips deeper against him, rutting tantalizingly against his needy hole.

Puck whimpered at the teasing, a weak sound muffled by the tree trunk that only inflamed Oberon’s desire. He decided he’d had enough of teasing, and took hold of his cock to line it up at Puck’s entrance. It was nice and slick and hot with his precum, and Oberon slowly pressed his way inside, gently spreading him open and sliding up his tight passage. Inside the tree, Puck bit his lip and let his head loll back, his eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure overwhelmed him. He could feel Oberon’s massive cock slowly filling up his whole ass like a sword filling a sheath.

Oberon’s hips finally pressed against Puck’s plush ass, raising it slightly, and smushing it against the tree trunk. Puck’s own weeping cock was pressed uncomfortably up against the tree bark now. Oberon gripped Puck’s hips firmly, drew back until only the tip remained inside him, then rammed back into him with enough force to shove Puck’s whole body deeper into the hole like a hammer driving a nail. He set a demanding pace, fucking him brutally hard and fast.

Puck, meanwhile, was desperately trying to hold himself steady as Oberon fucked him deeper into the tree. Each powerful thrust pushed him in a little deeper, and he weakly tried to push himself back out against the inner walls of the tree as Oberon withdrew. It was hard to focus when Oberon was fucking his brains out, and on top of that, every time he pushed himself a little further out, the king’s hips hammered his ass right back in. After a few more thrusts he gave up, going limp, and letting the king’s dick shove him back and forth as it willed. It was getting hot inside the tree, and sweat was starting to roll down Puck’s face as his mouth fell open in a soundless scream. Every slap of Oberon’s hips against him echoed in the confined space. His cock was scratching against the tree bark on the outside, the pain a little counterpoint to the powerful ecstasy.

Not being able to touch himself or Oberon in this state was sheer delicious torture. Puck yearned to wrap his hands around Oberon’s muscular waist, and kiss his molded abs every time he pushed into him, but he was helpless, motionless, powerless with his vulnerable ass hanging out of the tree. He was completely at the king’s mercy, a fuck-toy to be used as he pleased, and Puck found himself loving it as Oberon had his way with him.

“Oh, you bad, wicked imp,” Puck moaned, running his hands over himself as he felt the approach of an orgasm. “Mmm, fuck me harder, you dirty little forest sprite, taking advantage of a helpless little thing like me…AH!”

Oberon smacked his ass hard enough to make it jiggle in time with the slap of his hips, leaving an angry red handprint in its wake.

“You dare call me an imp, trickster?” Oberon growled in a thunderous tone. “Need I remind you I am King of the Faeries?”

“Oh please remind me, Your Grace,” Puck gasped, stretching his legs out backwards to clamp over Oberon’s waist, bringing him even closer. “Show me what a big, bad spirit you are, fuck me with your great, big royal scepter…OH GODS!”

With a choked cry, Puck spurted his release onto the tree bark, his cock swinging and flopping around in the air to spray dribbles of cum over the forest floor as it gradually softened.

Oberon switched gears, favoring shorter, harder, quicker thrusts as he pinned Puck firmly into place within the tree with his hands. He went deeper and deeper inside him, making Puck’s legs tense and shiver in tune with his fucking.

Puck could feel a new tension in Oberon’s muscles as he fucked him closer and closer to senselessness, his legs still clamped around his waist. He was starting to lose his rhythm, his hips stuttering, his breath growing uneven, and Puck grinned to himself and arched his back in anticipation of what was coming.

With a deep grunt, Oberon hilted himself inside Puck’s ass, forcing all the air out of his chest as he came. Puck groaned as he felt Oberon gush inside him, flooding his insides with steaming ecstasy. Oberon paused to get his breath back, still messily sheathed in Puck’s ass. Puck reveled in the warm, sticky bliss from inside the sweltering tree trunk as he came down from the high.

“Mmmm, Your Majesty,” drawled Puck in a warm, sultry voice as he stretched and rubbed his chest in a delicious afterglow. “I’m so glad you were here to rescue me…”

He heard Oberon chuckle from outside, and suddenly found himself being yanked smoothly backwards out of the tree. He stumbled backwards, landing on shaky legs, but was steadied by Oberon’s warm hands landing on his arm and back to hold him up. Blinking in the sunlight after the dark of the tree trunk, he was pleased to see Oberon’s handsome face bending towards him. They relished in a hot, wet kiss they had been denied by the tree trunk, and Puck opened his mouth to let himself be plundered by Oberon’s tongue.

“With a reward like that, I’ll rescue you anytime.”

He slapped Puck’s ass again, making him giggle and stick it out a little to shake for him.

“You still look absolutely delectable.”

Puck looked down at himself. His lower half had been sorely abused, covered in bruises, and there was a red line circling his waist where he had gotten lodged in the tree-hole, and he was absolutely dripping with Oberon’s royal seed.

“What do you think, Ashala?” said the king, turning away.

Puck was confused for a moment, but his eyes widened as an elf in a white dress stepped out from behind a nearby bush.

“I…I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything…” she stammered, a blush erupting over her cheeks. She played nervously with the hem of her dress.

Puck smiled. “Ah, this must be the new Harvest Queen I’ve heard about. An excellent choice, Your Highness, she’s quite beautiful, and so polite at that! Not to worry, my dear, I’m sure this is the sort of companionship you can look forward to sharing with the royal couple soon enough.”

She blushed at his praise. “T-thank you sir. My name is Ashala.”

“And you may call me Puck, the merry wanderer of the night!” He swept into a deep bow, and kissed her hand with a saucy wink.

Catching the look in Oberon’s eye that meant he was raring for a private discussion with the new Harvest Queen, Puck straightened himself up, and sauntered off with a teasing sway in his hips. “It’s been fun, Your Majesty, but I really must be off now. Tables to turn, milk to sour, that sort of thing…”

Oberon’s muscular arm suddenly curled around his waist and pulled him back into a deep kiss that swallowed his playful gasp of surprise. Puck rested his hands on Oberon’s broad chest and let himself be kissed as the king’s hands strayed down to cup his buttocks.

Oberon released him, and Puck staggered away a bit dazed. With one last wink at Ashala, he vanished into the greenery.

Left alone with the king, Ashala felt her furious blush return as her gaze landed on him. He was fully naked, his every taut muscle on display for her hungry eyes, standing in the middle of the forest like some erotic fantasy with his impressive cock still at half-mast. Heat was rushing to Ashala’s nether regions, and her throat was dry as a desert.

Oberon grinned. “As you can see, we let our affections run free here in the Fae Wilds. Probably a bit different than what you’re used to.”

“Not as different as you’d think,” Ashala muttered.

“And yet you seem a little…flushed.”

Ashala swallowed, shifting from foot to foot. “It’s just that…well…I’ve never seen anything quite so…,” she gestured at the tree recently vacated by Puck.

“You’ve never seen anyone so at their partner’s mercy before?”

“…no,” she said quietly.

Oberon grinned, took a deliberate step closer, and caressed her face with the side of his hand. Ashala couldn’t help leaning into his touch with a slight tremble.

Bending his head close to her, his lips brushed her cheek as his warm breath kissed her skin.

“Would you like to try it?”

Ashala giggled, nodded, and felt a tingle run up her spine.

Oberon jerked his head at the tree, and she practically skipped over to it to press her front against the rough bark, plant her palms on the tree, and present her ass to him with a little arch of her back, playfully lifting one bare foot off the ground.

With one cheek pressed to the bark she couldn’t see Oberon behind her, but he let her know how much he appreciated her enthusiasm by lifting her long hair out of the way and pressing hot kisses to the back of her neck. Moans rolled effortlessly from her mouth, and she squirmed weakly against the tree as his big hard body enveloped her soft little one from behind, his arms rising to cover hers against the tree. Every square inch of her was covered by hot skin or coarse wood. His hands started to explore her body as he set her aflame with kisses and nips to her tender skin, and she welcomed it.

Oberon had kissed her before, of course, during her scandalous induction into the Fae Wilds, but that had been several days ago. The royal couple had been letting her have some space since then, to help her get used to the new magical world she lived in, but in truth the memories of their tandem kisses had been haunting her nights, and making her wake up with an aching wet pussy and the Queen’s name on her lips. She had caught a few glimpses of Oberon around the palace since then, and he always gave her a promising wink.

As he smoothly yanked her dress up and off her shoulders with a whoosh, she knew she was ready to have him deliver on that promise.

Meanwhile, back in Mianna’s Village, the mayor and Ashala’s parents were anxiously watching the village’s best mage as he waved his hands over a scrying bowl. As he chanted in an eerie, disjointed language, the image of Ashala slowly materialized on the surface of the golden liquid.

Ashala’s mother gripped her husband’s arm tightly. “Oh, Nasir, she’s okay! Thank the gods she’s okay, she’s…she’s really okay…wow….”

The mayor grew flushed, and started to quickly retreat to the back of the room. “Well, it looks like we’ve found her, and, uh, I’ll go inform the constables, and then we can, eh, start to mount—PREPARE, I mean, we can PREPARE the rescue operation…assuming she wants to be rescued,” he muttered as he made a discreet exit.

The room’s other occupants hardly noticed him leave, their eyes locked on the obscene display being rendered on the magical liquid in high resolution. Ashala’s pale white legs were thrown over Oberon’s shoulders, and her pussy was repeatedly swallowing his long, thick cock. Every time his length pulled out of her tight entrance it was smeared with a shining streak of the juice of her arousal, and his hips clapped against hers in a loud staccato. Her head was thrown back against the tree trunk she was pinned to, and her mouth hung open to produce a single long keen that vibrated with the force of the Faerie King’s violent thrusts. She looked glorious in her ecstasy: her eyes were closed, her cheeks were flushed, and sweat was dripping from her forehead. They hardly recognized her; she looked more like some golden goddess of pleasure than their daughter. The pleasure flowing through her veins only served to highlight and magnify how beautiful she was, the plump fullness of her reddened, swollen lips, the delicate shape of her eyes and nose, the pleasant color in her cheeks. Her hair was mussed and wild-looking, full of even more leaves and twigs than were in her hair at the Harvest Festival. Her pert tits bounced and jiggled freely as Oberon pounded into her. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Oberon’s neck, clinging to his muscular form for dear life as he fucked her beyond rational thought with a furious snarl on his handsome face.

Nasir managed to tear his eyes away from the indecorous spectacle to notice his wife’s hand creeping toward her crotch.

“Ah…dear?”

“Hmm?” She started to rub herself through her skirt.

“Shouldn’t we, uh…do something?”

“Oh, yes…I can think of a few things we should do…”

Seemingly without conscious thought, her hand burrowed past the waistband of her skirt, and she started to masturbate with real intensity.

The sight of this made the erection Nasir had been attempting to conceal at the sight of his daughter’s deflowering even harder, and he tentatively started pawing at it through his pants.

The mage did a double take as he noticed what was happening. He looked affronted for a moment, but then paused, shrugged, and pulled his own hardening cock out of his robes with his eyes fixed firmly on the bowl.


End file.
